


Imaginary Lights

by ch3rryvodk4



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Hallucinations, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ch3rryvodk4/pseuds/ch3rryvodk4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is the only one who can save Sherlock from the noise of his own mind.</p>
<p>The problem is that John, too, is all in his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imaginary Lights

Sherlock is only six years old when he starts to play with John. John is older than he is, has sandy-blond hair and big blue eyes that always make Sherlock feel safe. When he tells his parents about his new - and first - friend, his father frowns and mother looks as if she might cry. Sherlock doesn't understand why, but he never mentions John again. When his older brother Mycroft comes home from school for holidays, he asks why their parents are so upset about John. Mycroft furrows his brow as Sherlock introduces him to John. He isn't even polite enough to say hello and it irritates the child. Mycroft tells him he must not introduce anyone else to John. Sherlock doesn't understand, but knows that Mycroft has always protected him and done what is right for him, so he doesn't question it and promises to do as Mycroft says. Sherlock doesn't speak about John, Sherlock's parents never ask about the blond boy constantly alongside their son, and John remains nonchalant and understanding to the ignorance of his existence. It infuriates Sherlock though, as time goes by, and he never forgives his family for alienating him.

Sherlock is seven-and-a-half when he's taken to see 'special doctors'. They ask him questions about John, and if Sherlock has any other friends. The boy explains that John is his best friend and his only friend, that John is always over at his house, and that he sometimes wonders about where John lives and goes to school, because he must do these things, surely, and the doctors are ever-worried about Sherlock's musings as to John's daily life outside of his friend. A big folder goes home with him that day, and that night his mother does cry, but Mycroft is away at school and no one will explain to him what is going on.

Sherlock is not a stupid child. In fact, he is rather the opposite. He is clever and witty and intuitive and, as his doctors that he begins to see monthly say, 'quite good at solving puzzles and determining patterns'. There was a time when Sherlock might have felt pride for such praise, but even young as he is, he has already lost the part of him that tells him to bee gleeful when remarked upon positively by a superior. Instead, he scowls and keeps to himself, John with him all the while. He rather loves John, for John does not leave him, and John does not get upset with him, and John is perfect and wonderful and everything that is right with the world. John is safe, and John is happy.

John is twelve, which leaves Sherlock to be nine, when the doctors - with whom he now visits on a regular, bi-monthly schedule - send him home with pills. His mother alternates between an indignant 'There is nothing wrong with my son' and a weepy 'Finally, he'll be normal'. Sherlock does not like either of these reactions, but still does as he's told and takes the pills. John stops visiting as much, stays shorter, and is not as… Present as he once was. He is distant, often unresponsive, hardly even seems to exist. Sherlock hates this, he loathes this, as John is the only thing he finds to be worthwhile. Science is all well and good, but seems to be less fascinating when John is not there to supply queries and advice that Sherlock had already known, but appreciates the presence nonetheless. It is comforting.

One night, Sherlock forgets to take the pill. John stays later the next day, is active and bright. Sherlock keeps a log then, noting that John does not come when Sherlock takes the pills regularly, and his visits increase with the decrease of medication. Sherlock quits taking them altogether, flushing them down one at a time at such times as he is supposed to be swallowing them. Not as if they were doing anything, anyway.

Sherlock grows up faster than he ought, John the only one by his side. As he's shipped off to boarding school, John follows and still no one will talk to either of them. Life is lonely, but Sherlock hardly notices. He has John. He doesn't know what loneliness is. When he's sixteen he meets Victor Trevor, who encourages him to take his pills, along with a few new ones. John doesn't like it and disappears often, but Victor is new and exciting and the meds he supplies Sherlock with make him feel like he's floating, like he's constantly exploding, and the feeling is unbearably wonderful.

Sherlock is eighteen when nineteen year old Victor kisses him at uni. And it's that same night that Sherlock falls asleep, crying out alone for John to come back to him, save him from what's happening to him. He adapts quickly to what he's put through, and the drugs help him. Sometimes he skips the pill that keeps John away, but whenever Victor catches him with John, he gets upset. Sherlock learns to block out the words that Victor screams at him, learns to shut down the senses that shriek with pain in his mind when skin slaps skin whenever Victor is angry with him. John still loves him, even after all he's become, and it's the fleeting moments with John that keep him at least partially sane.

At twenty-seven, Sherlock overdoses and Victor Trevor finally leaves him to die in an alley, dirty and depressed. He's picked up by Lestrade, a friend of Mycroft's, apparently. He's stuck in rehab, and withdrawal is a bitch. But they allow John to stay, because Mycroft told them that he helped. While his brother was never a constant in his life, Sherlock is grateful for the small mercies he is afforded by the man, who at least understands his mind if not his life.

By twenty-eight and a half, Sherlock is in London again, with a flat and a job of his own. By now he knows the truth about John. Up until the stint in rehab, he was able to believe in John, the drugs only further addling his brain to the delusion of his only friend. John isn't real. John is simply a figment of a lonely, over-active imagination. Still, he can't help but love John. John who has never hurt him, never forced him.

At thirty he stops taking any sort of medication. His mind turns dark, creates a twisted villain to haunt him. Moriarty hurts them both. Moriarty tears his world down around him. He's no choice but to let himself taken to the safe place where Moriarty disappears but John fades as well. So some nights he risks the danger just to see John again.

Pills chase the nightmares away, but with no pills he startles awake in the middle of the night, hair slick with clammy sweat. "John?"

"I'm right here, Sherlock."

"I miss you. Stay with me for a while."

"Go back to sleep, Sherlock. I'm here."

"I love you, John."

"I know."

"Do you love me?"

"I'm not real."

"But do you love me?"

"I don't know. I don't exist."

"Tell me you love me."

"I love you."

"Not like Victor loved me."

"I love you. Not like Victor loved you."

And for now, that's all he has. Head buried into the pillow, Sherlock succumbs to sleep once more, nightmares threatening his mind. John waves them away and settles beside his friend.

"I will always love you, Sherlock."


End file.
